


The past can show up in unexpected forms

by sunshineandeyebrows



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ghost Allison, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Thanks, i'm still new here and don't exactly know how to life, kinda graphic depictions of injury, so let me know if i should add a rating or a warning or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:03:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7511152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineandeyebrows/pseuds/sunshineandeyebrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison is a ghost. Stiles is dead set on feeling guilty. Derek maybe kinda wants to help him. Faeries appear.<br/>Everything is as usual in Beacon Hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The past can show up in unexpected forms

The window was closed. That meant Stiles isn't home, because he stopped closing it somewhere along the way, when it turned out Derek's still going to use it instead of the door. He probably didn't even realize it himself, Derek thought, a small smile tugging at his lips. Natural conclusion – if Stiles wasn't home, he would most definitely be at Scott's.

"No, sorry, he haven't hung out today," Scott said after picking up his phone.

"Do you know where he might be?"

There was a pause.

"Is this something important? Like, someone's dying or something?" Scott asked in his alpha-concerned tone. There was also some sheepishness in his voice. So he apparently knew.

Derek felt half irritated, half resigned.

"No, I want him to research something for me. There is no threat. Yet, at least," Derek sighed, suddenly feeling like a moron, standing right below Stiles' window like that. "You won't tell me," he said matter-of-factly.

"Bro code, dude. Sorry," Scott said, but had the decency to sound apologetic.

Derek groaned with frustration after Scott hung up, but quickly gave himself a mental kick for feeling so irritated with his alpha. After all, he knew it's things like that, like that stupidly honest loyalty that made Derek trust Scott completely. He was good like that, putting his pack, his family, before everything else, Derek thought. Scott was a great alpha, even if such a young and inexperienced one.

Next was Lydia and she obviously knew, but the deal with her was that if Lydia Martin didn't want to say anything, Lydia Martin wouldn't say anything, no matter what methods you used to make her talk. So Derek just needlessly made himself even more irritated because of talking with her. Then, he called Malia. And there was a difference finally, because she didn't have a clue of where Stiles might be. Kira was with her and even if she knew something, Derek realized she's not going to tell, more because of Scott than Stiles. Derek didn't want to push her, because, against all laws of his nature, he came to like that little demon fox. 

He didn't have the number to Scott's new-turned beta, Liam, but had a feeling the kid wouldn't know anyway. He and Stiles weren’t exactly best friends, although he respected Stiles and looked up to him, Derek knew that much.

That left Isaac.

"Why would I know where Stiles is?" Isaac asked, sounding almost offended.

Derek snorted, because please, it was obvious that Stiles had become his second best friend, right after Scott, during the short time Isaac's been back in Beacon Hills. Even Derek was a bit surprised at how easily he got attached to Stiles. But Isaac wasn't the only one. The whole pack has somehow started to gather around Stiles whenever he was near. Derek knew it's taken this long because of all the supernatural things they had to take care of, but it should have happened sooner. 

Stiles was the one that looked after all of them and made sure they're okay, putting them before himself. Even when he still hadn’t woken up his magic, they had all felt safer with him around, as if his presence alone could provide shelter, because he was that reliable, always figured everything out and would sacrifice almost anything for his pack. Kind of like a mother, Derek thought, and felt a weird pull in his chest. It was his wolf, urging him to do something with that idea, do something with Stiles.

"Shut up," Derek grumbled to himself. He wasn't even an alpha anymore, it wasn't his betas Stiles was taking care of, there was no reason for his wolf to act like he had found a mate. And Derek refused to admit to himself that the feeling’s been in him for quite some time now or that it wasn’t just his wolf that was getting confused, but the human as well.

"What?" Isaac asked, offended, and Derek remembered he's on the phone right now.

"Never mind," he mumbled. "You're one of the few people that might actually know."

"Really?" Isaac asked and Derek smirked, hearing disbelief, but also a tiny bit of hopeful nervousness.

"Yeah, that's why I'm calling," Derek said. "You really like him, huh."

"Yeah, I don't know why, but you sound really gross right now, so I'm gonna hang up. Don't know where he is, ask Scott."

"Already did," Derek grumbled, but Isaac had cut him off already.

Derek sighed long-sufferingly. He looked up again at Stiles’ closed window. He would've tracked his scent, but Stiles was smart. If he didn't want to be found, he would make sure no one was able to do that. Well, maybe besides Scott, but Scott knew him well enough to earn the right to know directly from Stiles about everything.

The thing was, Isaac should know too. They’ve become really close, somehow overcoming everything that the nogitsune had brought with itself. At least Isaac seemed like he came to terms with his loss, even if he had had to get used to Stiles for quite some time after coming back. Derek wasn't sure about Stiles, though. He was always saying he's fine, driving Derek nuts with it, but when you are possessed by an evil demon fox, who kills one of your friends just because you let him in, it can't be exactly easy to come back to your usual life.

Derek straightened, new, sudden thought exploding in his mind. He turned around swiftly and ran, the destination pretty much certain.

He slowed down by the rusty gate. He didn't like the smell of this place, so he didn't come here often. But sure enough, when he entered and passed by some trees, stopping behind one of them, outside the field of vision, he saw Stiles sitting on the ground in front of one of the gravestones. Derek would have come out, but Stiles wasn't alone and Derek stilled, stunned.

On top of the gravestone there was sitting someone. And not exactly someone Derek would expect.

"...as many times as I want!" Stiles was saying exasperatedly, flailing. "You can't stop me, I won't let you bore yourself to death here– I mean–" he quickly winced, realizing his mistake. "I'm not leaving you here alone, Allison," he finished seriously.

Derek stared incredulously at the girl who was supposed to be dead. To be fair, she probably was, but that apparently didn't stop her from talking with Stiles. Her mouth moved, but Derek couldn't hear the words, as if she was behind a thick glass. He could see the sky right through her body.

Stiles apparently did hear her, because he answered.

"Are you kidding?!" he flailed again, desperate offence in his voice. "I left you here for two weeks, because of that witch and her ridiculous bear-shark already, bear-shark, ya hear me, what even!"

Allison said something again, but it was kind of obvious that only Stiles could hear her.

"I don't–" Stiles looked a bit bashful now, almost ashamed. "I do it for you, okay, but not only. It's just– It helps, you know? Coming here and making sure you don't hate me for everything that happened."

Derek felt a painful grind in his chest. So Stiles didn't move on after the nogitsune, couldn't make peace with himself, still, even after almost two months.

Allison answered with small, a little bitter smile.

Stiles looked up at her, shaking his head slowly.

"That's not true," he said quietly, voice hoarse. He was playing nervously with his fingers. "Isaac couldn’t possibly hate you, I think he loved you. Maybe still does. But me? I have no idea how he can even stand me. Scott sure though, he doesn't blame me, but he's not capable of blaming or hating anyone, you know that. He's just this little puppy, who had to grow up in a day and take care of other puppies. But Isaac's different. I don't know what he thinks of me, but it can't be anything good."

Allison put a hand on his head and patted him delicately. Her mouth moved again.

"Yeah, I know, it was shitty for me too, but you're the one who... you know," Stiles made a gesture. "And Isaac isn't really the forgiving kind. I like him a lot, but I took you away from him and he didn't even say goodbye. I just–"

Allison's lips opened again, interrupting him. Derek wanted to tell him that Isaac's as far from putting the blame on him as he possibly can be, but didn't move.

"I would," Stiles assured, voice grumpy. "You know I would! But I'm the only one who can hear you, how do you think they would feel, if they couldn’t even talk to you in this kind of crazy situation!"

Allison frowned and said something seriously. Stiles looked as if she slapped him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, losing suddenly all heat present till now in his voice. "Allison, it will be tough for all three of you. Or four, because there is also Lydia. Are you completely, positively, absolutely sure?"

Allison nodded, expression stern.

Stiles sighed.

"Can I think about it for a while? I'm not– What if they'll hate me because I kept you in secret all this time? I'm really selfish, you know? And thinking about their reaction scares the shit outta me."

Allison frowned again and shook her head. She said something.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Stiles muttered. "Of course I am, I care about myself and my business, I don't really look after the pack as much as everyone seems to think I do."

Allison smiled. Her mouth moved. Stiles looked at her with heated gaze and a frown. Derek flinched and took a step forward, showing himself. Stiles didn't notice him. Derek almost growled with irritation. Stiles was the last person who came to mind when one thought about selfishness. 

"I hate you," Stiles mumbled. "You know that I don't–“

But Allison's head suddenly snapped up, her finger coming to her lips in a shushing gesture. She looked straight at Derek, who was now standing completely still a few meters away. She smiled widely and waved at him. Derek sent her a curt nod. Stiles automatically followed her gaze and spotted Derek. He flailed to a stand, angry expression on his face. He smelt strongly of guilt and pain, the smell Derek imagined as a close one to his own in the times he tried not to think about. But there was also something else there, something he couldn't quite place, but was fresh and a bit spicy and warm like a summer's sunset, something that was only Stiles.

"Allison, go," Stiles said, not looking at her.

She said something, frowning.

"P l e a s e, just do it," Stiles emphasized. "How did you find me?" he asked after a minute of silence, when Allison had just disappeared.  
"You weren't with Scott. Isaac didn't know. I figured it out," Derek said. It was apparently his turn to ask a question, because Stiles didn't say anything back. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Stiles snorted.

"What was I supposed to say? 'Hey guys, guess what happened, I was on a cemetery and found Allison! She's a ghost!'"

The air moved and Stiles startled, massaging his head. So Allison could affect the real word physically.

"Sorry, sorry," he grumbled and then looked back at Derek. "’That what you meant?"

Derek frowned.

"You do realize she's here for a reason, right?" he asked seriously. "If she could find peace, she wouldn't bother sitting on this shitty world."

The rotten scent of guilt magnified, punching the air out of his lungs. Stiles smelled miserable. His eyes had this gleam to them that meant he will stand his ground no matter what and be stubborn and angry instead of showing how he really feels, even when he knew Derek can smell it. Derek wanted to wrap him in his fur and make him warm and happy.

"I know," Stiles said bitterly, raising his head high as if to prepare himself for a punch. "I said I'm selfish, you probably heard that much. I'll have to be here if they want to see her, because I'm the only one who can hear what she's saying and I don't want to see what they think of me, get it?"

Derek approached him slowly and put his hands on Stiles' shoulders, automatically finding his rapid pulse and rubbing it with his thumb calmingly.

"Stiles, you’re many things, but above all else, you're the least selfish person I know, you hear me?" he said, voice sure, convincing.

Stiles' chaotic gaze fell on him and he squinted, letting out a dry laugh.

"What are you talking about, there is Scott and–"

"No," Derek interrupted him calmly.

Stiles blinked.

"What?"

"I said no, Scott isn’t less selfish than you. I mean, sure, Scott's great, amazing even, but he can be pretty selfish if he wants to. You can't. You’re not capable of that."

Stiles frowned, his expression turning confusing.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" he asked, irritation starting to color his voice. "I didn't tell them about Allison, because I didn't want them to hate me. I'm a selfish coward and asshole, you can't just deny it to make it not true!"

"No," Derek repeated patiently. "You didn't tell them, because you didn't want them to be hurt again. And being scared of what your friends can think of you is just a human thing. It's completely normal,” Stiles wanted to protest, but Derek didn't let him interrupt. "Though, yeah, I’m not gonna argue, you a r e kind of an asshole,” Stiles scowled at him. Derek became more serious. “You gotta tell them. They need it. All of them. They won't hate you, I'm pretty sure they're not capable of hating you, no matter what."

"But Allison's–" Stiles started and in that moment Derek felt a light touch on his shoulder, kind of warm and cold at the same time, but not really unpleasant. When he turned his head, Allison was there.

She opened her mouth and Derek couldn't hear what she said, but this time it was different. He felt her words inside his own mind, like she sneaked into his head and made herself comfortable, taking up some space and giving him a bit of herself, because he was pretty sure the bitterness and also something bright and floating, like hope, weren't his emotions.

"I can handle it, Stiles," her voice passed through him. "Please, I need it."

Stiles didn't look convinced, but after a moment he gave her a short nod, his tongue darting out nervously to sweep along his bottom lip, and pulled out his phone.

Fifteen minutes later, Scott, Isaac and Lydia stood next to them, staring with open mouths at Allison. They smelled nostalgic and strongly of shock and aching pain, the kind you get used to after a while of feeling it.

Stiles just reeked of resigned fear. Derek stood close to him to give him as much comfort as possible.

"I can't believe it," Scott breathed.

Lydia let out a strangled sound.

"Stiles," Scott said, not looking at him. "Why didn't you tell me?" his voice broke slightly.

Derek felt Stiles shift closer to him, almost touching, but not quite, not yet.

"I'm sorry," he said so quietly, Scott wouldn't have heard him, if he wasn't a werewolf.

Isaac didn't pay him any mind.

"Allison," he said, voice wavering, and took a step towards her.

Allison smiled sweetly and opened her mouth. Isaac frowned with confusion.

"You have to touch her," Derek said and caught a quick surprised glance from Stiles, who already made a motion to go there and help them communicate. Derek took his hand discretely and squeezed lightly his wrist to ground him. "You have to make physical connection, if you want to hear her.”

Isaac looked at him for a second more and then nodded, doing what Derek had told him to. His face brightened immediately and he smelled like longing and relief and bitter happiness now.

"Derek,” Scott said and Derek dragged his gaze to him. 

Scott's face was serious and painfully open, raw and exposed. Derek followed his gaze and it fell on Stiles, who apparently had no idea what to do, now that he wasn't needed here. 

Derek looked back at Scott and gave him a reassuring nod. He eyed Allison. She could apparently sense him, because she automatically made the contact.

"It was good seeing you again, Allison. Take care."

She smiled and nodded. Then turned to Stiles and said something. Stiles' eyes were weirdly watery and absent, but he nodded slowly, trying to smile too. 

Derek pulled Stiles' hand then and it was pretty easy to just make him follow, considering the state he was in. He registered he's not in the same place only when they were behind the gate to the cemetery.

"Where are we going?" he asked, but not with any pretense, voice hoarse, hands relentlessly rubbing his face.

Derek noticed suddenly that there was something else in his scent, something heavy and cold he hadn't registered because of all the other powerful emotions, but it was definitely there. Stiles was exhausted. Drained not physically but mentally to the point of collapsing.

"You don't have to be there, so I'm taking you home," Derek said simply.

Stiles didn't answer. And if Stiles didn't ramble, it was pretty damn bad. Derek hasn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. 

***

The drive was quiet, Stiles still reeked of guilt and distress.

"Bed," Derek rumbled when they entered Stiles' room.

Stiles finally reacted to that.

"W-What?" he spattered, startled.

Derek growled a bit with frustration, but then just sighed.

"Stiles, when was the last time you slept normally? And no, being knocked out doesn't count."

Stiles wasn't looking at him.

"Define normally," he mumbled after a pause.

Derek sighed again.

"That's what I thought. You're exhausted and that's why I'm telling you, lie down," he said with an impact and pulled off his jacket. Stiles stared, blinking dumbly at him. "Now."

Stiles sat on the bed, looking dazed. Derek took off his shirt. Stiles reacted only when he was reaching for the fly of his pants.

"Whoa, dude! What are you even doing?" he flailed a bit and Derek felt better, seeing the usual Stiles instead of the upset and miserable one.

"I'm taking off my clothes," he said matter-of-factly.

Stiles' eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

"Trust me, I can see that," he said and Derek smirked, sensing a spark of interest under his tiredness. "I meant why are you doing it."

"You should change," Derek said. "It will be uncomfortable in jeans," he added as an explanation, taking his own pants off.

Stiles gulped, his heartbeat picking up and eyes going down. His scent became spicy.

Derek frowned.

"Stop it, I'm trying to get you to sleep," he grumbled. "Change."

Stiles got up and started to rummage through his closet, muttering something under his breath begrudgingly, but his smell remained the same.

Derek changed his mind, though. He had planned to shift and sleep with Stiles in his animal form, but the scent confused his wolf and his instincts were telling him to take now and he couldn't quite do anything about that. He was up in Stiles' personal space before he could even think about it, lining their bodies together and breathing into the skin on Stiles' nape. Stiles shivered, his heart pounding and smell full of arousal. He took a sharp breath, kind of melting into Derek's body.

"Oh thank God," he whispered and Derek smirked again, scraping his teeth along the sensitive neck.

It was good, he told himself. Stiles needed distraction from all the things on his mind, his troubles and worries and this right there was a perfect distraction.

"What about sleeping," Stiles croaked, reaching up to run his fingers through Derek's hair and exposing his neck more.

God, he was such a fucking little tease and Derek wanted him so much right now.

"Later," he rumbled low in his throat and Stiles shivered again.

"That's probably the best thing you've said, like, ever," Stiles sighed, turning around, pupils blown, skin flashed, mouth red and half-opened, inviting.

And then Stiles' long fingers were in his hair, eyes narrowed with pleasure. Derek's hands wandered lower, caressing the skin on Stiles' hips and sneaking under his shirt, while Derek was devouring his mouth. The kiss was full of heat, their bodies flashed together, making the only barrier between them Stiles' jeans and Derek's underwear. Derek pulled away for just two seconds to pull off Stiles' shirt and when they came back to grinding against each other, it was skin on skin and the contact made both of them groan.

Stiles' jeans were starting to irritate him, so Derek reached down, undoing his fly. He let them fall to the floor. Stiles stepped out of them immediately, flailing a bit, which ended with him kind of falling right into Derek. Their erections brushed together, sending electricity up their spines. 

Derek broke the kiss then, his lips finding frantic pulse on Stiles' neck and sucking the pale skin. His hands reflexively went down to Stiles' ass and squeezed. When Derek picked him up by his thighs, Stiles automatically wrapped his legs around Derek's waist and let himself be carried to the bed.

And then somehow everything slowed. With Stiles' back already on the mattress, Derek just hovered above him for a while, staring. Stiles' eyes shimmered with gold and brown reflexes in the setting sun, his pale skin almost glowing. Derek spotted a mole right above his collarbone, dipping to scrape his teeth over it, earning a low grunt in return. His hands were just slowly touching every bit of Stiles' body he could reach, while Stiles writhed beneath him, breath short and hot, heart almost bursting with the quick pace of his pulse. His hands were also everywhere, fingertips scratching Derek's back every so often, causing embarrassing noises to slip out of his throat. Stiles was the first one to reach down, palming Derek's erection through his underwear.

Derek couldn't help the grunt that escaped his mouth, or very needed but involuntary thrusting into Stiles' hand, especially when Stiles became even more shameless and pulled down Derek’s boxer-briefs, getting his long fingers around Derek’s dick.

"Stiles," Derek breathed, overwhelmed with all the sensation and the scent.

Whisky-brown eyes that looked at him somehow managed to be mischievous and desperately needy at the same time.

"Derek," he pleaded, searching Derek's mouth and sucking on his lower lip. "P l e a s e."  
Derek reached down, getting Stiles rid of his underwear in one swift motion.

He lined their erections together and thrust. Stiles gasped and his mouth opened, letting out a constant flow of words, which, Derek was pretty sure, he did subconsciously. It was just a breathy combination of f u c k and D e r e k and G o d. Derek couldn't focus because of Stiles' scent that was telling him y o u r s now and it took awfully short amount of time for him to be this close to coming. Stiles was now the one biting his neck, though he froze after a moment, looking up at Derek with uncertainty in his big eyes.

Derek kissed his jaw.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured softly, picking up a tinge of anxiety in Stiles’ scent.

“It’s just–” Stiles’ voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat, swiping tongue over his bottom lip. “You’re a wolf.”

Derek snorted, nibbling at his neck.

“Thanks for telling me, but I’ve noticed some time ago.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Stiles grumbled. “It’s just that I read somewhere that neck is a super sensitive area for wolves. And I’m not exactly– are you okay with me putting my teeth there? Because I can stop that if you don’t want–”

“It’s okay,” Derek said quietly, kissing those red lips again.

And it really was, to his surprise. He wasn’t sure why it didn’t bother him. Maybe because Stiles didn’t have a problem with baring his own throat to him and it made him feel safe, ready to give the boy his trust after he had received it first.

“You sure? Because I know it’s about control and trust and submission and all that jazz, I can’t expect you to be fine with it just like that–”

“Stiles. It’s okay,” Derek repeated reassuringly. “I want to submit to you.”

“O h G o d,” Stiles said weakly and his scent became i n t o x i c a t i n g.

He kissed the underside of Derek’s jaw and nibbled at his Adam’s apple, scraping his teeth over it. And though it wasn't yet the marking wolves did when they met their mate, it was enough to mean m i n e and Derek couldn't quite think, because he never felt both of those things at once, no one has ever said to him y o u r s and m i n e at the same time. He didn't even register that his mouth has opened too and he's urgently murmuring Stiles’ name.

"Derek," Stiles moaned, sending shivers down Derek's spine. "I'm gonna– "

"Yeah," Derek breathed, sucking a bruise to the skin on pale long neck that Stiles was offering to him so easily. "Me too."

He kissed Stiles then, bruising and wild, because he couldn't control himself anymore. He knew his eyes are glowing, it was this close for his fangs to come out.

Stiles came first, crying out Derek's name. Derek followed suit, slumping down on Stiles heavily after he emptied on his chest.

Stiles was trying to even out his breathing.

"We should clean up," he mumbled quietly. "It's going to be gross later."

Derek sat up.

"Don't move," he murmured, brushing Stiles' nose with his own and getting up to bring a wet cloth and wipe Stiles clean. When he came back, Stiles was just lying there, all warm and calm and content, long limbs sprayed on the sheets loosely, eyes dark and heavy. He was smiling lazily.

"Did you just Eskimo-kiss me, Derek Hale," he asked teasingly and Derek felt his ears heat up.

"Shut up," he grumbled, wiping Stiles' abs. "It's a wolf thing, okay. Wolves do it to their–" suddenly he understood what he's about to say and cut himself off.

Stiles' eyes opened wider. He was curious and Derek knew he won't be able to keep it from the boy. God, he’d become such a pushover. He was too far gone to even say no.

"Their what?" Stiles asked, raising himself up and shuffling closer. Derek growled with frustration. "Oh come on, tell me! I have become a victim of werewolf habits, y e t a g a i n, I have the right to know!" he was almost bouncing. And Derek thought he'd get him to sleep right after, Jesus.

He sighed, resigned, and looked right into those amber-brown eyes.

"You know already," he grumbled. Stiles flicked his forehead and smirked.

"Tell me," he demanded and Derek wanted to howl with frustration, because Stiles has mastered being a teasing little shit perfectly and Derek wasn't strong enough for that right now.

"Mates," he mumbled, low, resigning himself to the mercy of Stiles' sarcasm, but then Stiles stopped smiling, his eyes going serious and searching Derek's face. His heart skipped a bit.

"So what does that mean, you know, for us?" he asked quietly.

Derek felt incredibly conflicted between the urge to turn away his gaze from those chocolate orbs and inability to do so. Finally, he fixed his eyes on Stiles' nose, which wasn't exactly safe, because of all the cuteness, but then again, no part of Stiles was safe to him.

"My wolf has considered you its mate for some time now," Derek said.

"Okay, so that's the animal part of you, right? What about the human one?"

Derek groaned, because it wasn’t anywhere near the perfect time for this conversation, considering Stiles should sleep off his tiredness and try to finally deal with all this nogitsune business instead of just throwing himself at danger to keep himself distracted. Also, Derek wasn’t ready to be explaining how you couldn’t tell apart things like animal part and human part within a werewolf. Derek was never sure were one ended and the other began, he just got used to referring to his more feral parts as his wolf, because it had been easier for the humans in his former pack to understand. He didn’t know about his more human parts, right now it was just one big confusion and w a n t, and he didn’t want to tell Stiles that, not in this difficult for him moment when he had to focus on himself.

"Were you actually even paying attention to what we just did," Derek said instead, flatly. 

Stiles blushed, his cheeks practically glowing and suddenly Derek noticed all the marks, stark red on pale skin, and some scratches that were definitely his beard's doing. Stiles' heart picked up again.

"Y-Yeah," he mumbled awkwardly, long fingers scratching his chin. "But, you know, it could just be about my body, though I have no idea why, 'coz it's not really a special thing, but who knows, I don't get your motives at least one fourth of the time, so."

Derek was very close to cuffing him on the head then. He wanted to tell Stiles that he’s ridiculous for thinking that, because even his goddamn fingers were distracting, don't you even get him started on Stiles' mouth, but he changed his mind.

"Stiles, the nose thing," he said firmly.

"Yeah?" Stiles looked at him through his eyelashes and Derek had to clear his throat and remember what he was even talking about.

"I wouldn't do that to someone I'm interested in for just their body."

Stiles blinked.

"Oh," he said, smelling like surprise and bafflement now, but also the kind of nervous hope that Derek sometimes could feel on teenagers that were about to ask someone out. Not that Derek knew a lot about teenagers, because look how great hanging out with them has turned out for him, but Valentine's Day reeked like that every fucking year.

"Yeah, o h," Derek repeated, rolling his eyes. "Now go to sleep before I delete all your porn files."

Threats like that were working much better on Stiles than a promise of sudden, violent death, Derek knew that now.

Stiles squinted his eyes, looking at him cautiously, as if he could tell if Derek's not deceiving him.

"You would not!" he said slowly.

Derek smirked.

"Is that a challenge?"

Stiles pursed his lips.

"Fine," he said finally and lied down, tugging Derek down with him. "But you too, since I gotta make sure you actually won't do this while I'm out."

Derek huffed out a laugh, but curled easily around him, burying his nose in Stiles' hair with a contented sigh.

He thought he heard a soft 'thanks' before he fell asleep.

***

Sometime later, Derek smelled two familiar scents that made him wake up. He grumbled a bit, snuggling closer to Stiles' warm body.

"Stiles," he muttered sleepily, soothing small circles into his side and abdomen. "Wake up, Scott'll be here in a minute."

Stiles mumbled something in his sleep, but didn't move.

"Stiles," Derek repeated.

Stiles managed to turn around, so that his long neck was right in front of Derek's lips.

"Walić Scott'a. Spać,*" he slurred and Derek had no clue what that meant, but wasn't exactly surprised that Stiles knew another language, his mother wasn't American, after all.

Derek mouthed at his neck delicately.

"Stiles, they probably want to talk about Allison, do you want them to see us like this?"

Stiles sat straight up, his heartbeat quickening instantly, before Derek even finished the sentence.

"Oh my god, Scott's here?! Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I just did," Derek mumbled, but Stiles wasn't listening to him, rushing to the window.

"For the sake of our friendship, Scott, I'm begging you, don't come in!"

There was a pause. Derek could practically see Scott scrunching his nose, while sniffing around.

"Is Derek there?" he heard finally.

He watched with interest as Stiles became gradually red all the way down to his chest.

"Yeah," Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly. Embarrassment was coming off of him in waves. "He's here."

Derek heard Isaac's resigned oh my god. He couldn't help the wide smile that curled his lips.

Then he heard an engine and Lydia's car stopped in front of the house, just as Stiles was saying: "Wait for me, I'm gonna come down to you in a second."

"What's going on?" Lydia asked with unpleasant confusion. She didn't like not knowing.

"Stiles is with Derek so we can't come in," Isaac explained in an unreadable tone of voice, but Derek knew he's just trying not to think too hard about it.

"I'm trying to prevent you from getting trauma!” Stiles cut in desperately.

"That's very generous of you, Stilinski," Lydia said sternly.

Stiles hid face in his palms, groaning with embarrassment and frustration.

"Just wait for me right where you are, Jesus!" he said, turning away from the window. "And you wipe that smug grin off of your face, you bastard," he said to Derek. "Oh my god, we shouldn't have done that!"

Derek felt a cold hole open in his chest. The smile disappeared instantly from his face. Stiles must have noticed something's wrong, because his eyes widened and his heart quickened and he started flailing.

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that, it's just right now is not a good time and it was probably mostly because of my smell, right, I must've smelled really horny, but you can't blame me, dude, you were stripping in my room, of course I would react like that," his blabber continued as he grabbed a pair of jeans and Derek's shirt, probably by mistake, and started to put them on chaotically. "And I would like to focus on just you right now, because you're gorgeous and I still can't believe it happened, but I can't because there is other stuff, and o h m y g o d, they can hear all of that," he said with a sudden realization. "If I don't die of embarrassment in the next few minutes, I'll be right back, okay, so just stay here and don't move even an inch, got it? God, you're so beautiful like that," and he was gone.

Derek stared at the door in awe.

"Dude, gross!" he heard when Stiles finally got down to meet his friends.

"What! What is it?!" Stiles yelled, irritated.

"You smell like Derek," Isaac supplied.

"And sex," Scott added, sounding horrified.

"At once," Isaac emphasized, like those things put together were something completely unthinkable.

"Oh my god, guys, can you just stop sniffing me already, I'm not a slice of bacon!"

"Of course you're not," Scott agreed easily. "You're my best friend."

"Besides, bacon smells delicious and you don't," Isaac grumbled in a boring tone.

Derek smirked again.

"Come on, guys, I'm too tired for this shit. It's definitely not a perfect hour for this," Stiles said exasperatedly and Derek could practically see his flailing. "What time is it, anyway?"

Derek glanced at the electronic clock standing on a shelf by Stiles' bed.

"Almost two," Scott said.

"And you guys have been there until now?"

The atmosphere changed instantly and violently, like the temperature dropped from pretty warm to almost zero in a millisecond. Stiles' scent followed, waking Derek's protective instincts again.

"Yeah, I guess," Scott said and, bless him, patted Stiles' shoulder in a manner Derek could not only hear, but practically feel, as if it was him getting brotherly support from the alpha, not Stiles.

But for Stiles it wasn't enough to be assured everything's just fine between them.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

Derek could hear Isaac's heart beating just a little faster.

"She's gone," Lydia said, voice surprisingly soft, even if her heart was also stuttering.

"What? What do you mean – gone?" Derek almost winced at the speed of Stiles' heartbeat.

"We talked, like, a lot," Scott murmured with bitter fondness. "We cleared things up, we said our goodbye," his voice broke a little, but he cleared his throat and bravely continued. "And then she said she can finally be free... and she disappeared."

Derek almost couldn't bare the combined drumming of their pulses now.

"Oh my god," Stiles whispered weakly and Derek almost jumped out the window just then, overwhelmed with the need to comfort him.

He stopped short right by the window, because there was Scott hugging his best friend instead of him, Isaac joining in and Lydia begrudgingly patting them all before they pulled her in as well. It was calming for all of them, comforting in a way only a pack could be and Derek felt desperately compelled to join them. Scott must have sensed it, because he looked up at him and smiled, gesturing for him to come down. Derek hesitated. His need wasn’t about Allison like theirs was, he just wanted to be with them in the general way, because he had missed this so much for those years without his family and because Stiles was there, hurt, fragile, nearly broken.

He jumped finally. Scott ushered him in, smelling relieved. They all were calmer than a second ago. Derek was partly prepared, but it still was a bit surprising when he felt content being able to be a part of that small circle that soothed every one of them. His wolf was almost howling, his heart was nearly teared by all the emotions he hadn’t felt in so long that it ached to have them again.

“Um, guys,” of course it was Stiles who spoke first. “Don’t wanna spoil the fun, but I would vote for getting inside and making something to eat. Also, this is really starting to get awkward.”

Lydia huffed indignantly, as if she only now remembered that what she’s doing should be completely beneath her, and moved towards the house first.

Stiles was pushed between Scott and Derek on the couch, as they settled to watch some crappy movies. Malia and Kira showed up shortly after they started and Isaac was made by Scott to pick up Liam. Soon, Stiles’ living room was cramped and warm. Derek watched, satisfied, as the tension in Stiles’ shoulders eased until he was sleepily leaning on Scott. Derek must have fallen asleep too, because the next thing he remembered was Isaac mumbling something about a pink giant pizza into his ear.

The sun was already pretty high. The entire pack was asleep, some on the couch, some on the floor. Lydia was the only one that couldn’t be seen around, but Derek could smell her nearby and when he woke up a bit more, he located her in the kitchen. He slowly untangled himself from Stiles, who was more like an octopus than a human now, gently pushed away Isaac and trudged towards the amazing smell of coffee that was now filling the air.

Lydia was sitting with a steamy cup in her hands, looking out the window. Derek almost startled when she spoke.

“I thought I’ll be the one who could talk to her just like that,” she said absently.

Derek poured himself coffee and sat on the other side of the table.

“I don’t think she wanted to bother you,” he said after a minute of weird silence.

“She didn’t have a problem bothering Stiles,” Lydia mumbled, still not so much as glancing in his direction.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Derek said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If anything, it was Stiles who bothered her.”

Lydia finally looked at him and then smiled too. And that was it. Her scent became much calmer and warmer, her heartbeat slowed down to almost regular and they didn’t say anything else.

Sometime later Stiles walked heavily into the kitchen with one eye barely open and the other probably still asleep. He stopped over the express, inhaled deeply, turned around to look at them and said, “Nothing is better on Sunday morning than good coffee and the sight of two most gorgeous people on the planet sitting in your kitchen.” He poured himself a cup with a contemplating expression, ignoring Derek and Lydia’s eyeroll, and then, “Well, maybe there is one thing missing, but I’ll need Kira for that,” he got up and walked to the door to shout, “Kira, I need you and your magical pancakes!”

The rest slowly woke up too, grumbling and making a big show off stretching and yawning. Kira, predictably, was the only one who was her cheerful self from the moment of opening her eyes. Even Scott looked ruffled and confused.

Kira and Stiles started to make pancakes and the rest watched in a kind of paralyzed terror as they whirled around the kitchen, laughing and sometimes tripping or almost hurting themselves by sheer coincidence. Thankfully, the injuries were limited to a cut on Stiles’ finger, Kira’s bruised elbow and a few somehow chopped off hairs on Liam’s head.  
Pancakes were delicious. Stiles laughed he should be a barber because Liam looked a million times better than before. Liam declared he’s never going near Stiles and Kira when they carry around sharp objects again. Derek forbade them from preparing any meals when others were in the kitchen with them. Kira looked genuinely sorry, Stiles pouted, Lydia rolled her eyes and Derek made lemonade, because the day was already hot and Stiles pouting had bigger effect on him than he would like. Which was happily pointed out by Isaac who was fighting over the last glass of the lemonade with Malia. Scott told them not to use any techniques that could cause bodily harm, so they were glowing eyes at one another over an intense thumb war.

It was surprisingly peaceful.

Until it wasn’t.

***

Derek wasn’t really that surprised when he woke up in the animal clinic with blood drying on his clothes.

“…then what are we supposed to do?” he heard Scott’s voice, a bit unclear, as if coming from under water.

“Lydia is the only one who can find him,” Deaton this time, somewhere closer.

Derek’s senses were coming back. He could smell something heavy and rushed. Desperation. He whined, because Scott was distressed over something and Derek could feel it as if it was his own chest seizing up awfully. Scott was instantly there, his hand a solid heat against Derek’s nape and their foreheads pressed together. Derek understood what was wrong after a second, when he couldn’t feel Stiles anywhere near.

“Where is he?” he asked quickly, voice hoarse and panicked. “What the hell happened?”

Scott squeezed his neck to calm him down a bit.

“Stiles wanted to get you out of there when you got knocked out and he used some spell,” Isaac said quickly. He was wiping blood off of his chest. “And it was like a switch flipped, they all turned from human size to small fuckers and threw themselves at him. Lydia was trying to scream and they did something to her–”

“She won’t wake up,” Malia cut in, on edge. Derek wasn’t surprised, Stiles had been the first one in the pack she got attached to. She must have been really furious and scared. “And those bastards took Stiles.”

They had precisely two days of peace until the faeries showed up. Fucking f a e r i e s. Derek had been suspecting something was coming, but he certainly hadn’t been suspecting this. Stiles, of course, had done research on them back in the previous year already, so they knew a lot. For example, that they couldn’t stand banshee’s scream, and that they could freely operate their size from the one of a human to the one of a small bird.

Derek sat up. Scott was still squeezing his neck. He was maybe starting to panic a little bit.

“Have you tried tracking him?” he asked, too quickly.

“Liam’s still out there with Kira,” Malia said, putting on a jacket and wincing slightly. She was here probably only because Scott made her wait for her wounds to heal. “I’m going now. Isaac?”

“Yeah,” Isaac said, putting a bloodied shirt back on.

Derek made to move after them, but Scott stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re going to try and wake up Lydia,” he said. His eyes had red rings around the pools of brown.

Derek just nodded, because there was no arguing with Scott when his best friend was in danger.

Lydia didn’t have any visible injuries; at least that’s what Deaton said. He was convinced Lydia was under the influence of a strong spell.

“Her alpha might be able to wake her up, but it’s probably very risky. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“You mean I have to do the same I did with Stiles?” Scott asked, frowning. He was scared, Derek could feel it thick and unpleasant in his scent.

“Yes, if you want to find Stiles fast enough to get him back in one piece,” Deaton said and it was brutal, but maybe Scott needed just that. “If they took him instead of killing on the spot, it means they want to use him. For a sacrifice, probably.”

Derek gritted his teeth.

“Thanks,” he said with bitter sarcasm. Deaton talking about all the horrible things that could be now happening to Stiles was just the thing he needed.

Deaton shrugged innocently. Scott clenched his jaw, making it impossibly more uneven and flicked out his claws. His eyes were full on glowing now.

“I can do it,” he said, voice low, more resembling one of an alpha. Laura had the same voice when she decided to come back to Beacon Hills.

Derek put a hand on his shoulder.

“You can. You’ve done it before and you’re the true alpha,” he said.

Scott nodded.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Don’t call me ‘dude’,” Derek huffed.

Scott finally gave him a quirky smile. Derek felt a bit better. His stomach wasn’t so twisted anymore.

He gently maneuvered Lydia to let Scott see her back. Scott took a deep breath, glanced at him one last time and made one swift move, dipping his claws in Lydia’s nape. Derek didn’t even flinch for so long, his muscles felt sore. Deaton was in the back, Derek could hear rustling of paper. Scott stood there, unmoving and pale, for at least half an hour. Isaac called in the meantime to say they’re still looking, but Derek knew the tone of his voice when Isaac was starting to feel hopeless.

Finally, when Derek was almost crawling out of his skin with tension, Lydia gasped, shooting up and Scott let go of her, gulping huge breaths.

“Well, that was scary,” he wheezed out.

Derek caught Lydia’s shoulder to steady her, because her heart was beating like crazy from fear and she looked like she had no idea what’s happening.

“It’s fine, you’re okay,” he grunted and twitched when she buried her face in his shoulder, but cautiously embraced her tiny form.

She had never before felt so fragile to him as she did now. It was somehow scarier than the rest’s panic. As if they lost all control this time.

“And I thought your undead uncle was the worst thing that ever happened to me,” Lydia huffed into his chest.

Derek didn’t know what to say, but it seemed he didn’t have to say anything, because then Lydia pulled away and straightened her blouse, fixing her hair with a steely expression. Derek let out a breath he didn’t know when he held. The situation didn’t seem so terrifying anymore.

Scott clutched at Lydia’s shoulders with desperation on his face.

“Please,” he rasped. “We have to find him.”

Lydia grimaced.

“I’m not sure I know how it works yet,” she said.

Deaton walked into the room.

“I do,” he said.

Derek liked him a bit more in that moment.

“The same thing you did when you had been looking for Kira back then,” the vet said. “You need to scream.”

Derek looked at Scott, nodded, and they both covered their ears. Lydia took a breath. It still shook every nerve in Derek’s body, the scream not so much loud as piercing in an almost supernatural way. When it stopped, no one broke the ringing silence. Lydia’s eyes were completely blank as she stood there, motionless.

“It’s cold,” she said suddenly. It was clear she’s not referring to the animal clinic. “It’s cold and damp. Stones. I hear a sound of something. Constant and calm, but scary.”

“Water,” Scott whispered. “A river…? Lydia, can you hear me? Can you see anything?”

Her head dropped to the side as if a string snapped. Derek felt uneasy.

“No. I don’t see anything. It’s cold.”

Suddenly, she blinked and her eyes went back to normal.

“There is nothing else,” she said. “He’s not dead yet, so I can’t take you to him. I can only find the dead.”

“Don’t say that,” Derek growled. Lydia flinched. “Don’t say that he’s not dead yet.”

She nodded.

“Sorry. We should go now. I’ll try again later.”

Scott was already by the door.

“Be careful,” Deaton said. “I hope you’ll get him back safely.”

The woods were too quiet. Animals weren’t so stupid, they knew something was coming before it could get there. Derek led them all the way to the stream behind the Hale house.

“We’re going up,” he said, pointing at the direction in which the stream began.

Isaac and Malia joined them quickly, both restless and silent. Then Liam brought Kira who squeezed Scott’s hand harder than necessary. Scott didn’t say anything; squeezed back.

“Stones, right?” Derek glanced at Lydia.

She seemed dazed, but nodded slowly.

“There is a cave,” he said, not stopping for even a second.

“What do we do when we find them?” Isaac asked suddenly.

Derek was hit by a strong mix of emotions coming from Lydia. When he looked at her, her eyes were terrifying.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said, her voice ice cold. “Just focus on Stiles. I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure–” Malia started.

“Malia,” Scott cut her off lowly.

Derek wasn’t really surprised. None of them knew what Lydia is truly capable of. Probably even she herself. And Scott had faith in her, just like in every single one of them.

They reached the source. It took longer than Derek would like and his agitation started to affect the rest. The cave was sealed with a giant stone that definitely hadn’t been there the last time Derek played in this territory. It was a long time ago, but it couldn’t have moved here just like that. Isaac became even more anxious. He was the most sensitive to emotions and disturbances in the natural way of things out of all of the wolves.

“Something’s wrong,” he said.

And that was when the hell broke loose. They were suddenly surrounded, Scott yelling at Derek to find Stiles and roaring, throwing himself at the faeries. Derek grabbed Kira and ran. Lydia screamed, stopping everything for one terrifying moment, the faeries screeched, the sound reverberating in the silence of the night and in Derek’s brain, and then Kira’s tails were hitting the stones and Derek was inside a complete darkness, searching blindingly for a body…

Not a body. Stiles. He was searching for Stiles. The cave was falling down around him and Kira was shouting and he tripped over something and fell down on the cold ground. The sounds were deafening him and he probably broke an arm, but ignored it all, as he touched the wet surface until he found something softer. Stiles’ leg.

He was muttering Stiles’ name as he moved up his body and grabbed at lifeless shoulders to pull him out of there and take him somewhere safe. He wasn’t thinking about anything else, nothing else mattered, just that, to save Stiles, to save his most important person.

There were more hands and then, without knowing how, he was on the grass, stream a far murmur, holding Stiles like everything would end if he let go, Scott’s red eyes and bloody face inches from his own.

“Derek!”

He gasped, realizing it’s over now and he’s clutching too tightly. He took a calming breath. Then another one. Kira’s fingers were hot as she touched him gently. He looked up at her. Her eyes were fire.

“Let me see him, Derek,” she said, voice so calm and soothing, he didn’t think, just loosened his hold.

He didn’t let go completely, though. Kira put her hands on Stiles’ forehead. She had recently discovered that her electricity can affect human body according to her will. Derek looked down for the first time. Stiles had blood drying on his head and face that was so pale and cold, Derek winced. Then he explored Stiles’ body and saw his own hands, that were on Stiles’ waist, covered in red. Panic swelled in his stomach.

“Stop the bleeding,” Kira said and it reached him almost muted, like from behind a thick glass. “Derek! You have to stop the bleeding, I’m not able to do that! He’s gonna die! Derek!”

His hands were shaking as he pressed them to the wound, the only hot place on Stiles’ whole body.

“We don’t have time,” he mumbled. “He’s going to die, we don’t have time…! No…! No, no, no, please, don’t die, just don’t die, I’ll do anything, I–”

“Derek!”

And then another pair of hands appeared. They were unreal and see-through. Derek snapped his head up.

“I knew something like this would happen,” Allison said, her lips a thin line. “I’ll fix it.”

“Allison,” someone said in awe and Derek’s mind managed to connect the voice to Isaac.

He looked around dazedly and they were all there. His entire pack, their fear vibrating in his own blood.

“Please,” he said, whispered, weak and desperate.

Allison smiled.

“I couldn’t leave my favorite human in this state, could I,” she said, her voice swimming in his head like warm gold. “Don’t tell Lydia that, she thinks she’s my favorite.”

“But she’s not human,” Derek mumbled stupidly, without the slightest idea why he’s getting caught up in talking about this.

“That’s why,” Allison smirked.

“B’llshit… You l’ve me th’most… out of all of ‘em.”

Derek felt like he’s going to pass out.

“Stiles.”

Stiles smirked up at him tiredly, his body warming up gradually.

“’S’up, sourwolf.”

“And now I think I’m done,” Allison said. “Stiles, I know I told you to take care of all of those morons that I love the most in the world. But you should take care of our grumpy wolf most of all, you know? Seems he needs you,” she winked when Derek attempted a half-assed scowl that turned into a grateful smile instead.

“Thank you. I hope you’ll be happy out there.”

“Yeah. And you too,” she said and stood up to have a silent conversation with Isaac that ended with a sweet kiss.

Scott hugged her. Lydia cupped her cheek with a quiet I love you. Stiles managed a weak, “Bye, my favorite human. Thanks.” She blew him a kiss and then was gone.

Derek bent over Stiles to bury his face in the boy’s neck. The relief was so strong, he wasn’t sure he’ll be able to actually get up in the next hour.

“You cryin’?” Stiles mumbled into his hair. Derek could feel him smiling.

“Shut up,” he said, voice breaking.

“Stiles!” Scott cried and Derek had to let go finally, so that his pack could properly rejoice the fact that Stiles is fine and most definitely not dead.

“How did you get rid of them?” he asked Lydia in the meantime.

“Allison,” she said softly. Too softly for her. She seemed to realize it too and collected herself a bit. “She appeared when Scott was on the ground and I didn’t manage to take another breath after the first wave of them dropped.”

“They dropped from your voice alone?” Derek asked, impressed and a bit freaked out.

“I don’t know,” she grimaced. “Maybe I did something else. I’m not entirely sure what happened. Maybe Scott noticed.”

“Yeah,” Derek breathed, watching Stiles being held up by Liam and Malia scenting him all over, which wasn’t so great, but he could endure for now. “We should ask him later.”

Derek had to give Stiles a piggyback ride. Not that he complained. Much. Stiles just wouldn’t let him carry him normally. The only sound was their pack talking a few feet in front of them and leaves rustling under Derek’s feet.

“So,” Stiles said quietly, because unless he was asleep, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for longer than five minutes. “I’ve been saved from faeries by my friend that was killed because of me and became a ghost.”

“She didn’t die because of you,” Derek said.

Stiles sighed.

“Please, can we not argue about it now? Wait a day or something, I’m too tired.”

Derek clenched his teeth, because he knew that even if they argued about it, Stiles wouldn’t accept any other explanation than his own.

“We should go to sleep,” Derek said, instead of dragging it further. “And you should talk to the sheriff. He’s probably worried sick right about now.”

Stiles winced.

“I know,” and after a moment, “Can we sleep in the loft?”

Derek wanted to look at him, but it would be kind of hard in the position they were in.

“Why?”

Stiles was quiet for a bit too long as for him. Derek couldn’t decipher his scent at all.

“It’s stupid,” he said finally. Derek waited, because Stiles didn’t have to be encouraged to talk even if it was stupid. “It’s safe,” he mumbled. “And your bed is bigger,” he added.

Derek could feel him smirking.

“I’ll take you to your dad first,” he said.

Stiles nodded, burying his face in Derek’s nape.

*** 

The sheriff didn’t really want to believe in the ghost story and asked them if they time travel too. Stiles whined, “Dad, not again,” and Derek figured that question must have been asked before already.

“I’d rather have you here, but I have a night shift anyway, so do what you want,” the man dismissed when Stiles informed him he’s going to Derek’s place. And then he said casually to Derek, “Watch out for him, he’s a born devil. If you don’t want something, tell him clearly.”

Derek gaped, feeling his face burn.

“Dad!” Stiles said, scandalized, also completely red.

“You’re nineteen, son, you think I don’t know what boys your age have in mind?” the sheriff raised an eyebrow.

Derek thought it must be obvious that he’s that observant, if even Stiles didn’t say anything about them being discovered so easily.

“We’re not going to talk about this,” Stiles said and pulled Derek to the door.

Derek managed to wave awkwardly at the sheriff and then they were somehow in the loft. Stiles was looking at him, visible only in the lights of the town streaming through giant windows. He slowly turned away his gaze and pulled his t-shirt over his head in a languid, sensual motion. Derek’s throat suddenly turned to sand; he had no idea Stiles could be sensual. The dried blood on his pale skin was a striking contrast, even in the dim loft.

“Derek,” he said quietly, but with so much power, Derek felt goosebumps on his skin.

He noticed he had taken a step forward only when he was reaching out to touch.

“Derek, can I clean myself?” Stiles whispered, letting him slide fingers wherever he wanted.

“Yeah,” Derek said absently and then, realizing what they are even talking about, “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Wait–”

Derek pushed him into the bathroom before he could protest more.

“Clothes,” he said, taking off his own shirt.

Stiles took his pants off faster than Derek could reach for his own. And then he fumbled, Derek catching him swiftly and gently maneuvering into the shower.  
“Easy there, cowboy,” he muttered. “The fact that Allison magically healed you doesn’t mean you haven’t lost blood.”

Stiles laughed nervously.

“Shut up.”

Derek pushed him against the wall to turn on the water. Stiles held his breath as their bodies slid against one another. Derek looked down at them, breathing in Stiles’ scent like it could replace oxygen. Stiles sighed deeply as Derek bent down to kiss his neck. When their gazes met again, Stiles’ eyes were the same as that time in his room, warm and dark, and completely calm.

“I really thought I was gonna die,” he whispered. 

His heartbeat was too slow for that kind of declaration. Derek hated the fact that they all got so used to the concept of dying any minute.

“Me too,” he said, gritting his teeth, remembering the choking fear from some time ago, as he had been holding onto the cold body with something black coiling in his heart.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbled into his skin. “It must have been scary.”

“Stop it, it wasn’t your fault. It was more scary for you, right?”

Stiles nodded slowly, looking up at him. The water was stopping at his eyelashes. He hadn’t been scared one bit. He didn’t think of his own death as anything other than deserved. Derek hated it and had no idea what to do to make him stop looking at himself like that.

“Allison forgave you, Stiles. You should forgive yourself too,” he said, cupping Stiles’ face desperately.

Stiles smirked. It was ugly.

“You first,” he said.

Derek blinked at him stupidly and then grinned.

“Together?”

Stiles laughed, kissing his nose. Derek still couldn’t fully grasp how he could change his mood so quickly, but it was absolutely fascinating.

“Sure,” Stiles said, smiling like an idiot. “But for now, how about you finally wash me, Hale?”

“Bossy,” Derek grumbled, reaching for the shower gel.

“You know it, babe.”

“Stop with the nicknames. Right now.”

“Oh, boo, don’t be like th–”

That was the moment Derek discovered a very easy and probably the only way to shut Stiles up.

___

**Author's Note:**

> *'Walić Scott'a. Spać.' --> 'Screw Scott. Sleep.' It's polish. Sorry, my headcannon is that Stiles' mom was from Poland and I like to add small things like that in my own language :p


End file.
